The Hangover: Hetalia Style
by crocious
Summary: Three days before Germany's wedding his best man and the rest of the Bad Touch Trio take him to Vegas. But things turn ugly the morning after the night they'll never remember when the groom disappears. Can the BTT find Germany and get him married in time?
1. Chapter 1

**Nnng… I know, I know. I have two other stories to work on. What on earth am I doing starting a third? I'm sorry! The idea came while I was talking to Map of the Stars and I couldn't stop myself! But the semester is almost over. I think I can handle juggleing three stories! Right? Right?**

**There wasn't a suitable Alan character available… I'm going to do my best to preserve a LITTLE of the awesome that is Alan, okey? I'm nervous, though. I feel like Alan MADE The Hangover…**

Italy paced the floor nervously.

"No one's picking up their phones, ve! I called the hotel, I called all of them, I called the Las Vegas police- where could they be?"

Japan tried to smile reassuringly. "You know how things are in Alfred's country. I'm sure Ludwig-kun and everyone are fine. Please relax, you're going to wear out your tuxedo…"

Italy turned to Japan with tears in his eyes. "But Ludwig is always so careful and strict about time! What if something awful happened?"

"Calm down!" Japan said sternly. "Everything is going to be fine. You're upsetting yourself for no reason. You need to sit down, have a glass of wine and wait. Everything is going to be okay and you're going to be married to the love of your life by dinnertime."

Italy smiled and sat down on the sofa. "You're right," he said. "You're right. There's nothing to be worried about. Everything is going to be perfect, ve!"

Just then, Italy's cell phone buzzed. He yelped and picked it up before it even rang once.

"Gilbert?" he cried. "Gilbert, where are you? Where's Ludwig? Why isn't anyone answering their phones? Tell me what's happening, ve!"

Prussia voice sounded strained and exhausted. "Hey, Feli… sorry. Um… We fucked up."

Italy bit his lip. "Gilbert, listen to me. I don't care how bad it is. As long as Ludwig is back here in time for the wedding, nothing you guys have done matters, ve."

There was a dry laugh from Prussia's end of the phone. "Feli… we, uh… we lost West."

Italy's eyes flashed darkly and Japan leapt back in alarm. "You what," Italy said dangerously.

"We can't find him anywhere."

"You realize," Italy said venomously, "that Ludwig and I are getting married in twelve hours."

"Yeah…" Prussia said. "That's not going to happen…"

…MAGICAL TIME TRAVEL TO THREE DAYS EARLIER…

"Does this look alright?"

"Turn around. I dunno, West, it makes your ass look all flat."

Germany groaned and appraised the tuxedo himself. "I'm not really asking my brother to judge my ass, Gilbert. In fact, if there was an opposite of that, _that _would be what I want."

Prussia straightened his own tuxedo and shrugged. "Fine," he said. "But don't get all bitchy when everyone thinks the best man is totally hotter than the groom. I mean, it was going to happen anyway, but with a flat ass like that you can just say goodbye to anyone being polite about it."

Poland snickered behind his hand and Germany shot him a look.

"What?" Poland shrugged. "He's totally right. Take off your pants, I'll alter it, kay?"

"I think it's fine!"

Poland and Prussia rolled their eyes at each other.

"Sorry, Po."

"Why would he ask me to be his tailor if he's not even going to listen to me?"

Germany reddened. "I _didn't_ ask you, it was-"

"VE!"

The three men turned to the door to see Italy grinning.

"Doitsu!" he cried. "You look so handsome!"

Germany blushed and smiled softly as Italy ran to hug his fiancé. "Feliciano, you're very happy, aren't you?"

"Of course I am, ve! We're getting married in three days! It's something to be very happy about!"

Germany smiled and kissed Italy's forehead. "I'm happy too."

"Ve!"

Poland tapped his foot impatiently. "Hello? Why are you still wearing the pants? I need to fix them!"

Germany frowned. "Italy thinks they're fine. And that's all that matters."

Italy giggled.

"Is that so?" Prussia smirked. "Turn around." Prussia lifted Germany's coattails as Germany protested. "Feli, does West's ass look flat in these slacks?"

Italy paused just half a moment too long. "Ve!" he said. "I think Ludwig's butt looks great no matter what!"

Germany reddened. "_What_? What's wrong with them? Do they really look that bad? How on earth can you fix that?"

Prussia smirked. "You heard Hubby, West. _No matter what_."

Germany blushed and took the slacks off, leaving him in his boxers. He tossed the pants and Poland.

"Fine," he said. "Fix them."

Poland squealed in glee and ran out of the room to alter the slacks. Italy looked confused.

"Ve? But I said they were fine!"

Prussia slung his arm across Italy's shoulders and winked. "'Fine' is not a good word to hear before a wedding," Prussia educated. "What would you think if West said he liked your shoulders 'no matter what'?"

Tears sprang to Italy's eyes. "My tuxedo makes my shoulders look small? _Why didn't you say something_?"

Germany pulled up his jeans and rushed to comfort his fiancé, glowering at his brother. "Feliciano, your shoulders look perfect in your tuxedo. Gilbert was just using that as an example."

"Sorry, Feli!"

…

Germany, back in a tank top and jeans, walked with Italy out to the garden. Italy chirped happily and picked flowers. Germany watched him, smiling gently.

"I love you, Feliciano."

Italy looked at him and grinned. "Ve! I love you too!"

"I don't know why you think I need a bachelor party," Germany said. "It's not as if I'll be missing anything when we're married."

Italy smiled and rubbed a dandelion on Germany's nose. "You never know. Besides, I'll be having one of my own. And if you have one too, I won't feel bad about it!"

"A cooking party is a little different than Las Vegas, Feliciano."

"To-may-to, to-may-to."

Germany smiled. "The phrase is 'To-may-to, to-_mah_-to."

"Ve?" Italy said. "Who do you know that says to-mah-to? That's just silly!"

Germany laughed and kissed his fiancé happily. "You're too good to be true."

Italy pulled away and looked Germany in the eye. "Is this about Big Brother Francis? Is that why you don't want to go to Las Vegas?"

Germany shrugged. A breeze ruffled the trees and a shower of apple blossom petals rained on them.

Germany fondly brushed the petals from a giggling Italy's hair. "I don't understand the Vegas concept itself. And it makes me a little uneasy that Francis was so persistent about it."

"You know how Alfred's always talking it up," Italy said. "I think Francis just wants to see it for himself. I'm sorry, my big brother can be a little strange."

Germany held Italy's hand and started walking back to the house. "Don't be ridiculous. We're getting married. That means my family is your family and your family is my family. He'll be my brother too."

Italy giggled. "Does saying that still put you in physical pain?"

"It's getting worse," Germany grimaced.

Italy laughed. But he went quiet very suddenly, eyes watering.

Germany stopped and faced him. "I'm sure he would have loved to be here for you," Germany murmured.

Italy chuckled and a tear slipped out of his eye. "You've never met him. He'd hate all this wedding stuff."

"He's your brother," Germany said, wiping the tear from Italy's face. "I'm sure he loves you no matter what. Has Rome found any leads as to where he could be?"

Italy shook his head. "Lovino got rid of everything that could lead us to him. He's really good at hiding. And it's been so many years… I don't even know if he's still alive."

Germany pulled Italy to his chest. "I'm sure wherever he is, he's fine. If Rome can't find him, the Mafia must be turned entirely upside down. Lovino seems like a very smart man."

Italy laughed through his tears. "You're right. I just wish he could be here! I miss him so much!"

Germany kissed Italy's forehead. "I know you do. But you'll see him again."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Somewhere behind them, a twig snapped. Germany went rigid and stepped in front of his fiancé protectively.

"Who's there?" he demanded of the bushes.

"Doitsu," Italy said. "It's probably just a bunny! It's okay!"

"Come out now or I will be forced to shoot you!"

"Don't shoot the bunny!"

"_Funf! Vier! Drei!_"

"Doitsu! Bunnies can't count!"

"_Zwei!_"

"They don't speak German, either!"

"_Eins!_"

There was a yelp from the bushes and a blond, bearded man fell out. "AH! Don't shoot me!"

Germany groaned and Italy looked at his big brother.

"Ve? Francis? Were you following us?"

"Define 'follow,'" Francis said, standing up and brushing himself off.

"Walking behind us with the intent to watch us," Germany growled.

Francis frowned. "Er… well, what are _you_ doing with a gun out here?"

Germany sighed. "I'm not carrying a gun. I was bluffing."

Francis' eyes widened. "That was a bluff? That was an excellent bluff! You were made for Las Vegas!"

Germany looked at Italy pleadingly, but Italy just smiled.

"Ve!"

…

Germany stood awkwardly in Rome's office. "I… I don't know what to say."

"Start with thank you!" Rome laughed, his dark, tousled hair bouncing against his cheeks. He leaned back in his chair and looked at his future son-in-law. "Kids these days!"

"Thank you," Germany blushed. "But this is a lot of money. I don't know if I should take it."

"I've been to Vegas," Rome winked. "You definitely have more fun with an extra few thousand in your pocket!"

"Thank… thank you. I'll be sure to pay you back."

Rome laughed and stood up. "Consider it a wedding present! Just don't leave Francis in charge of it, okay? Because there's something wrong with him."

Germany laughed. "Thank you very much. I'll be sure to keep it safe."

"Not too safe, I hope! Maybe listen to Antonio about it. I _know_ that man knows how to have a good time!"

Germany offered a half smile. "I'll make sure everyone has fun."

"That's the spirit!" Rome laughed. "And remember, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas! Well, except herpes. That shit'll come back with you."

Germany laughed nervously. Rome pulled him close, a menacing glare flashing through his eyes.

"Seriously, though. If I find out you fooled around behind my grandson's back, I will cut your balls off with a butter knife and feed them to you raw."

Germany smiled. "You have nothing to worry about, Sir Rome."

"That's my boy."

…

"I still don't understand why you're going to _California _of all places," Austria nagged at Spain. "We have perfectly good wine here."

Spain shrugged. "Ludwig wanted to get something more exotic for Feli," he said. "Napa Valley is supposed to be very good."

Austria folded his arms. "I hear it tastes like toilet water."

Spain laughed and kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. "With America's taste, probably. Still, we're going for Ludwig, not us. Even if it tastes like ass, we'll smile and pretend it's a great idea!"

Austria made a disgusted face. "Don't say such disgusting things. Did you remember to pack everything?"

"Yes, I double checked everything."

"Don't forget to call me when you get to the hotel."

"I won't. But I'm going to just remind you once. It's in a different time zone. By the time we get there, it'll be like two in the morning here."

Austria rolled his eyes. "I can't believe you think that excuse is going to work."

"What? Roderich, it's true! Austria's nine hours ahead of California."

Austria shot Spain a look that asked if he was stupid. "I know. I was joking."

Spain blinked. "That was a joke?"

Austria glared daggers at him.

Spain waved his hands and laughed nervously. "I'm sorry, I don't have a very good sense of humor!"

Austria humphed. "I suppose that's why you're going with Gilbert, of all people."

Spain's face fell. "Think of it this way," he tried to say brightly. "If Gilbert hadn't swept Hungary off her feet and married her, we wouldn't be dating right now! So really, he's a great guy! Right?"

Austria looked Spain up and down and sighed. Spain's heart sank.

"You're right. He's a dick. But I'm going for Ludwig and Feli."

"And Francis, too."

"Why do we hate Francis again?"

"Because he's a perverted, slimy, vulgar, awful man."

Spain wrapped his arms around Austria's waist and Austria struggled against him.

"No one can play piano better than you can," Spain murmured in Austria's ear. "No one does music better, no one does cuisine better, no one does art better. You're better at everything."

Austria sighed and straightened his glasses. "You can be so immature."

Spain laughed and kissed Austria on the cheek. "I'm not so bad."

"Only when you compare yourself to your friends," Austria said, slipping out of Spain's grip.

"They're really not that bad," Spain defended. "They're great guys."

"They're silly little man-children. I don't know why you and Germany hang around them."

"They're not man-children," Spain said. "They're actually very mature. I wish you'd give them a cha-"

At that moment, a car horn blared into Austria's kitchen. "CALLING SENOR ASSHOLE," Prussia's voice yelled loudly against the horn. "SENOR ASSHOLE!"

Austria rolled his eyes. Spain laughed nervously. "Well… gotta go…"

He pecked Austria once more on the cheek and ran outside to find France and Prussia in Germany's sleek gray convertible. Germany stood by the open trunk while Prussia was turned around in the driver's seat.

"Toni, check it out!" he laughed. "I can honk the horn with my ass!"

Francis laughed and made a vulgar gesture from the back seat.

Germany rolled his eyes and Spain tried not to laugh while Austria was watching from the kitchen window.

"Idiots," Germany grumbled.

"Ah, you love them," Spain winked, tossing his bag in the trunk. "Don't forget, in three days they'll both be your brothers!"

Germany reddened. "Please don't remind me."

Spain laughed and hopped next to Francis in the backseat. "So what time does the plane leave?"

"In an hour," Prussia said, moving to the passenger's seat as Germany climbed back in. "Are you guys ready?"

France cheered. Spain laughed. "Let's show Ludwig the best time ever!"

Germany groaned and turned the key. Spain turned back to the house. "LOVE YOU, SNOOKUMS!" he called to Austria.

"Yeah!" Prussia laughed. "BYE, SNOOKUMS!"

Spain smacked his arm. "Stop! You're going to get me in trouble!"

Prussia grinned and pointed to the road. "Onward, West!" he said. "To the greatest weekend of your life!"

**I know, I know. Rome should have offered Germany his car. But there's a problem with that, you see. You can't drive across the Atlantic. See? I do thinking! **

**Let me know if this is something I should continue or not. Kay?**


	2. Chapter 2

**You know what? I was gonna write until the part where everyone wakes up. But I have to go to work soon and I reached a pretty good place to stop. I really just wanna publish and take a breath.**

**Thank you to everyone who commented and followed the story! It makes me feel awesome!**

"VIVA LAS VEGAS!" Spain sang while the group waited for their plane to Nevada. "VIVA LAS VEGAS!"

France laughed and clapped along. "Do you even know the rest of the words, Antonio?"

"No one does!" Spain laughed. "VIVAAAAA, VIVAAAAA LAS VEGAAAAAAS!"

Germany groaned and turned to his brother. "You honestly thought this was a good idea?"

"Shh, West," Prussia said. "Reading."

"You've been reading that same book for an hour. What on earth can make you focus for that long?"

Prussia displayed the discreet green cover. It read _The World's Greatest Blackjack Book_.

"It says here that we should work in pairs," Prussia said. "You wanna be my spotter?"

Germany groaned. "We are not going to Las Vegas to gamble," he said.

"It's not gambling if you know you're gonna win! This card counting thing is totally legit!"

"It's also illegal," Spain said.

"No," France explained. "It's _frowned upon_. Like masturbating on an airplane."

"Pretty sure that's illegal, too," Spain said.

France sighed. "American airlines are so sensitive sine 9/11."

Germany blinked. He decided the best action was to ignore France and turned back to his brother.

"In any case," he said, "you have to be really, really smart to count cards."

"Or _awesome_."

"Nein. Just smart."

Prussia smirked. "Why don't you tell that to Rain Man? He bankrupted an entire casino and he was a reh-tard."

Germany smiled slightly. "He was a _what_?"

"A reh-tard. Don't you speak English?"

Spain cackled. "Dude!"

France laughed and pinched Prussia's cheek. "Be careful, Gilbert, your stupid is showing."

"YOU'RE stupid!"

Germany stood up. "I'm going to find a book for the flight. I'll be right back."

The groomsmen stood up and followed him into the little shop.

Germany sighed.

"Antonio," France said. "How are things going with Roderich? What did he say when you told him you were going to Las Vegas?"

Spain blushed and studied the nutrition facts on a bottle of water. "I… I didn't tell him. I told him we were going to Napa Valley."

Prussia let out a low whistle and even Germany groaned despite his conviction to stay out of it.

"Is that so wise?" Germany said. "You know how closely he watches finances. He's going to find out."

"Which is why everything is gonna be cash!" Spain said brightly. "I hit an ATM earlier. I've got enough that I shouldn't need a credit card at all this weekend!"

Germany hushed him. "It's probably not a very good idea to say things like that about cash very loudly."

Spain grinned obliviously. "Eh? Why not?"

Prussia rolled his eyes. "I think it's stupid that you're not allowed to go to Las Vegas with your buddies, but Specs is allowed to sleep with Basch when you're out of town on business."

Spain glared at him. "For the last time, it wasn't like that. They were both really drunk and Roderich topped. And it was two years ago."

"While I think it's hilarious that you believe Specs managed to top anyone," Prussia said, "that still counts as cheating."

"It's true," France nodded.

"Watch it," Spain growled. "That's my future-future husband you're talking about."

The men looked at him, surprised.

"What?" Germany said. "You're engaged?"

Spain blushed. "Well… not _yet_. I'm proposing to him after the wedding. I have the ring and everything."

Prussia bit his lip. "That's, um… That's great, man. I'm happy for you."

France excitedly kissed Spain on both cheeks. "Muah! Muah! _Mon amour_, this is wonderful news! 'Antonio and Roderich Fernandez Carriedo!' How wonderful!"

Spain looked at the floor. "Well, I mean…"

Prussia slapped his forehead. "No, Toni, no. Don't take his name. You love your name!"

Spain shuffled his feet. "I know, but… we talked about it a few times, and Roderich thinks that Antonio Edelstein sounds better than Roderich Carriedo."

Prussia laid his head on the counter as an annoyed shopkeeper rang everyone up. "Toni, _no_. You're not even married yet and you're already letting Specs make you his bitch. That's… _no_."

Germany paid for the items. "You're taking this rather personally, Gilbert," he said. "Are things alright with Elizaveta?"

Prussia looked at him. "Liz is awesome. I'm awesome. So we're both awesome. But marriage sucks. Didn't wanna say anything in front of Feli, but being a husband is so _lame_."

Spain cocked his head. "Eh? How so?"

Prussia led everyone back to the waiting area just as the loudspeaker announced their flight was boarding. He shrugged as the ticket lady took their tickets.

"Just so freaking _domestic_," Prussia moaned. "No more staying up until three in the morning drinking with her! No more spur of the moment trips! No more freaky monkey sex! Everything is bills and grocery shopping and balancing checkbooks and "How was work, honey?" You know what she got me for Christmas the year before we got married? Police-grade double-lock handcuffs. You know what she got me last year? _Socks_. Marriage just sucks!"

The four sat down. Prussia graciously gave Germany the window seat and France offered it to Spain behind them.

"I don't know," Germany said. "That doesn't sound too bad. Feliciano and I already do all that stuff together."

Prussia gasped. "Are you _serious_? How do you not hate it? You need Vegas, West. You need to live just one more time before you get trapped with all that for the rest of your natural life!"

France laughed. "Love is sweet, but it's much less emasculating to be single. That's why I'm not married!"

Spain quirked an eyebrow. "Really? _That's_ the reason you're not married?"

"_Oui_."

"Not the whole, 'can't-keep-it-in-your-pants-for-more-than-ten-minutes-to-save-your-life' thing?"

France intently watched the stewardess pass them. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Spain laughed.

"And with that," France said, "I'll be in the bathroom."

"Hurry," Germany said. "We're not supposed to use the bathroom until the plane is up."

"I'll be quick," France said.

He left. Prussia clapped Germany on the shoulder.

"I'm really happy for you, bruder. Feli's a great guy."

"He really is!" Spain chirped. "I'm so happy he has someone like you, too!"

Germany blushed. "That's, um… thank you. I'm very excited about the wedding, to be honest."

"And Vegas too," Prussia winked. "It'll be the one thing you never have to tell Feli about!"

Germany's face darkened. "We don't keep secrets from one another."

Spain nodded. "That's probably for the best."

"Shut up, Napa Valley," Prussia said. "It's okay to have a few secrets! Otherwise, you did your bachelor party wrong!"

"Still haven't told Liz about Amsterdam?" Germany said.

"Nope. And I'm not going to. That shit is classified."

"How has she not found out about it yet?" Spain asked.

"I've got mad skills," Prussia winked. "For a few months after I had to keep her off the internet, but I manage."

"Is the Youtube video still up?" Germany asked.

"2 million views and climbing!" Prussia cackled.

"And you honestly think she didn't see it once."

"My balls are still attached to my body, so I think I'm safe."

France came back from the bathroom just as the 'Fasten Seatbelts' light came on.

"Good news," he murmured to the party. "Turns out it's not illegal to masturbate on a plane!"

"What, is there a sign or something?" Prussia asked.

"No…" he smirked. "But no one stopped me."

They looked at France in disgust.

"FRANCIS! EW! WHY!"

"We all have to use that bathroom!"

"We need a new plane! When's the next plane leaving!"


	3. Chapter 3

**You know what I want for Christmas? I want someone to make a Bob and Doug 12 Days of Christmas vid starring Prussia and Germany. I actually don't even know why it doesn't exist yet. I feel like it should be a given. Hell, I'd even enjoy a PruCan vid to that.**

**That or an "I Want My Hat Back" parody with Specs and vital regions. I would fangasm so hard if someone showed me that for Christmas.**

**Oh, and world peace I guess.**

Nine and a half hours of napping, poking each other, I Spy, awful airplane beer, terrible food and refusing to go to the bathroom later, the plane touched down in Las Vegas. As the party (after a lengthy trip to the bathroom) stepped outside into the Nevada desert, they gasped.

"It's so HOT!" Prussia panted. "How is it so hot?"

"Is this Nevada in April?" Germany said. "Is it _always_ like this?"

"What is air!" Spain whined.

The sun set very quickly, but the heavy air remained sweaty and hot. With Spain's encouragement and Grandpa Rome's wedding gift, Germany rented very possibly the coolest car in Las Vegas- a silver BMW 2010 convertible- to the joy of the groomsmen.

The girl at the counter smiled nervously at them as she handed Germany the keys. "Maybe I can interest you in a little rental insurance?" she said.

Germany looked over at Prussia cackling and snapping pictures of France posing seductively on the hood of the car. Spain smiled and rolled his eyes at Germany before tripping over literally nothing and banging his nose into the counter.

"Don't worry," Germany said. "I will be the only one driving this car."

The girl sighed in relief.

…

Germany pulled into the hotel parking lot to the soundtrack of three grown men singing "Tik-Tok" by Ke$ha a cappella. Germany looked at the Bad Touch Trio, turned the car off, got out and walked away so as not to be seen with them.

The lobby of the hotel was spacious and sumptuously decorated with golden silk and a large water fountain. The floor tiles glittered somewhat garishly, but they effectively conveyed the message "Do not trod too heavily on me because this hotel will destroy your credit score with ridiculously enormous fines.

Which is why the trio of men dressed in sweaty T-shirts and jeans that barged into the lobby as if they owned it seemed so out of place. Germany frowned and the woman at the counter looked at them, worried.

"You wouldn't happen to know the three men splashing each other in the fountain," she said. "Would you?"

Germany looked over at Spain, France and Prussia squealing and taking pictures of each other making stupid faces. Fortunately, they were by the statue of the horse in the corner and nowhere near the fountain.

Germany breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm relieved to say I do not."

The girl at the counter smiled and called for security.

"Now," she said as enormous men with ridiculously tight suits helped the three drunken idiots find the sidewalk, "where were we?"

"Beilschmidt," Germany said. "Reservation for two rooms."

The girl tapped happily away at the computer as Spain, Prussia and France came up behind Germany.

"Dude," Prussia said. "You _left_ us. You _abandoned_ us."

"I'm hurt," Spain grinned.

Germany scowled. "If you make me embarrassed to know you, I will leave you. I won't even think twice about it."

"Ouch, bruder."

The counter girl frowned. "Oh dear," she said. "There's been a mistake."

Germany winced. He hated that word. "I beg your pardon?"

The girl looked up apologetically. "I'm sorry, it seems your second room has been booked by someone else. My manager must have made a mistake."

Prussia watched his brother's eye twitch and hurried to take over. "Oh, that's okay…Sarah," he said, glancing at the girl's nametag. "They don't have to be adjacent. Is there another room available?"

Sarah typed away and shook her head, embarrassed. "Not the same room type, I'm afraid."

"We can share beds for two nights," Spain said, trying to sound cheerful for Germany's sake.

France shrugged. "If we share beds, I'm bunking with Gilbert. You good with that?"

"No I'm not," Prussia said. "Guys, we are not sharing beds. We are not twelve and we're not the stars of some teenage girl's misguided fap fantasy. Sarah, you wouldn't happen to have any villas available, would you?"

Germany balked and Sarah smiled sheepishly. "We actually have one left," she said. "It's $5000 per night, but I think I can get you a discount because of the mix-up."

Germany's eyes flashed murder.

"Is it awesome?" Prussia asked.

"It's pretty awesome," Sarah said.

"Perfect. We'll take it."

"Are you insane?" Germany hissed. "I can't afford that!"

"Don't be stupid," Prussia laughed. "This is on us. Toni, give her your credit card."

Spain clutched his wallet to his chest. "I can't do that! Roderich checks my bank statements!"

"I'll take the blame," France offered. "He doesn't like me anyway."

"That excuse would only make sense if he knew I was in Las Vegas already!"

Sarah interrupted them. "We only need a card on file. We won't charge until you check out. You can figure it out then."

"Perfect," Prussia smirked. "Let's roll, boys!"

…

"Mein Gott," Germany murmured. "This room…"

"This room!" Spain said.

"This fucking room!" Prussia gasped.

"Is that the Eiffel Tower?" France asked the window-wall.

The men walked in and admired everything.

"Thanks, guys," Germany smiled. "Or, should I say, thank you Antonio?"

Spain grinned. "It's only because I love you and Feli."

"Dibs on the second most awesome room!" Prussia shouted. "West gets the awesomest because his life is almost over!"

"Bruder…"

"I'm kidding!" Prussia cackled. "You know I love Feli! Why the hell aren't we drinking yet?"

France hummed as he searched the villa's kitchen for glasses and alcohol. Spain excused himself and wandered into an unoccupied bedroom.

France handed Germany and Prussia their glasses of Jagermeister and exchanged a meaningful glance with Prussia.

"Poor Antonio," France sighed.

"Poor Toni," Prussia agreed.

"Why "poor Antonio"?" Germany asked.

"Specs is terrified Toni'll cheat on him," Prussia explained. "So he has this insane rule that Toni has to call him every time he gets a spare minute to himself."

"Isn't it something like 3 in the morning back home?" Germany asked.

"No one has ever said Roderich is a reasonable person," France shrugged. "Would you like to distract Antonio by being remarkably inappropriate in front of him, Gilbert?"

Prussia curtsied. "I thought you'd never ask."

Prussia and France skipped like school girls into the bedroom and Germany rolled his eyes and followed, setting down his drink.

France and Prussia were in the middle of an impromptu strip tease when Germany walked in. Spain sat on the bed, biting the fleshy part of his thumb to keep from laughing.

"No, Rod, you'd hate it. There's gaudy *_snikt*_ crud all over the walls. America does not know how to decorate... Why am I laughing? It's just… Yeah, it's really ugly…" Spain covered the receiver with his hand and mouthed sternly for Prussia and France to please, for the love of God, stop dancing.

Prussia and France sat on either side of Spain and smirked as they tickled his knee and blew in his free ear.

"Germany's _*geh!_* fine, he's getting really excited for the wedding… You know I wouldn't let them hire a stripper for him, what do you take me for? Besides, I don't think Gil and Francis would actually-"

"Penis," Prussia whispered in Spain's ear.

"HA!" Spain laughed. He clapped a hand over his mouth and blushed. "No, Roderich, not you, there's just a moose in a fishing hat in the lob-"

"Penis penis penis," France murmured.

"HAHA! Sorry, honey, it's just-"

"," France and Prussia smirked together. Germany hid a smile.

"HAHAHA! Sorry, baby, haha! I, ha! I gotta go, we need to HAHAHAHA! Stop, you idiots, hahaha! I'm serious! Hahahaha!"

"Penis penis penis penis penis penis penis!"

Spain fell onto his back laughing and Prussia and France tickled him until he was out of breath. Spain grabbed for his phone, panicked. "Roderich? Roderich, hello? Way to go, assholes, he hung up!"

"Thank goodness," France said. "I don't know whether to be sorry for you or embarrassed for you."

"We asked if you packed everything," Prussia said. "Why'd you forget to pack your balls?"

Germany sat on the edge of the bed. "Are you sure everything is alright between you and Roderich?"

"Guys," Spain frowned, sitting up. "Everything is perfect. Roderich is just a little insecure. I don't mind calling him to let him know we're good."

"You've been dating for four years," Prussia groaned. "And since then, _he's_ the one who's cheated on _you_. You should be the insecure one, not him."

"Well, I trust him," Spain said firmly.

"It's admirable," Germany said, "but is it healthy? What would you say if one of us was in your position?"

"Specs beats him, too," Prussia said.

Spain grew red. "That was twice and I was out of line. Trust me. Everything will be better after I propose. Then he'll know for sure I'm serious about him."

Prussia and France groaned and fell back on the bed. "Seriously?" Prussia said.

"Marriage has never fixed a single thing," France said. "No offense, Ludwig."

"Feliciano and I have nothing to fix," Germany shrugged.

Spain scowled. "I love him, guys. I love him and I'm going to marry him. And whether you like it or not, you'll all be there at our wedding and stop yourselves from saying anything stupid." Spain pulled a little box out of his pocket and France gasped.

"That's not…"

"It is," Spain smiled. "My grandmother's wedding ring."

"Where did you find it?" Germany said, awed. "I thought it was lost in your Civil War."

"There isn't a whole lot that can stay lost when amore is with you," Spain smiled, stroking the large ruby.

"Are you totally sure, dude?" Prussia said.

"We've been dating for so long," Spain said. "This is the logical next step. Date, love, marry. That's the way it goes."

"But when have you ever done the logical thing?" France said.

"Call it a new leaf, asshole."

Prussia rolled his eyes. "What the hell are we talking about this for? We're in Las Vegas! Let's go get our party on!"

Prussia stomped out of the room and grabbed the bottle of Jager. Germany, France and Spain shrugged at each other and followed him out of the villa to the door at the end of the hallway.

Germany tried to stop him. "Bruder, the sign says we can't go onto the roof."

Prussia smirked. "Dude, we're paying for a villa. We can do whatever the hell we want!"

Spain nodded at the logic and opened the door, placing a brick to keep it from closing.

Laughing, the men made their way to the edge of the roof and looked out onto the city.

"This view," Germany said.

"This view!" Spain gasped.

"This fucking view!" said Prussia.

"It is!" France said. "It's a little Eiffel Tower!"

The men held their glasses together as Spain poured the Jager. Prussia raised his in a toast.

"To West and Feli," he smiled. "May tonight be only a minor speed bump in an otherwise very long and happy marriage!"

"Cheers!" Spain and France grinned.

"Danke," Germany said.

Prussia and Germany slammed back their Jager without blinking. Spain coughed and managed to swallow it down, but France sipped it delicately.

"May I say something?" France said. "I'd like to read a toast I wrote on the way here."

Germany gave a tight-lipped smile and thanked him. France smiled and pulled out a piece of paper.

He cleared his throat and read. "Ahem. 'How about that ride in? I guess that's why they call it Sin City."

Spain and Germany groaned and rolled their eyes. Prussia glared.

"Maybe not so much illegal self-love on the way back, ja?"

"Don't count on it," France winked. "I'm not sure if you know this, but I have always considered myself a bit of a loner. Yes, I get more love in a week than you all see in a year. But I have never made very many strong, lasting relationships. I have always been a one-man wolf pack."

Spain and Prussia bit their fingers to keep from laughing at France's deadpan delivery. Germany looked to be in physical pain.

France clapped Germany on the shoulder. "But one day, my little brother brought Ludwig home. And I knew he was one of my own. And my wolf pack, it grew by one."

Germany winced.

"So there were two of us in the wolf pack," France continued, eyes sparkling. "I was alone first in the pack and Ludwig joined in later. And then, when we had our first brunch as a family and I saw Antonio and Gilbert, I thought to myself, 'Wait a second. Could it be?' And now I know for sure. I just added two new wolves to my wolf pack."

Prussia and Spain sniggered.

"Four of us wolves," France said. "Running around the desert together in Las Vegas, looking for strippers and cocaine."

Prussia pumped his fist and hooted, but Spain and Germany looked at them sternly.

France smiled and reached for his pants. "And so I propose a toast," he said, unzipping.

"Whoa!" Prussia shouted. "What are you doing?"

"Put that away," Germany blushed.

"Dude, what are you even doing?" Spain said.

"Blood brothers," France said innocently.

"No, I'm not doing that," Germany said.

"Make him stop," Spain told Prussia.

Prussia flicked France on the nose. "What did we tell you about whipping it out in public, Francis?"

France pouted. "Damn it."

"Okay," Prussia said. "Come here, crazy. Final toast. To a night we'll never forget."

"There it is," Spain smiled.

"Danke, guys."

…

The sunlight stabbed Prussia right in the eyes despite them being closed and buried under a soft down pillow.

"Fucking fuck shit ass fuck," he grumbled as he sat up. He looked around the trashed villa.

"What the fuck happened last night?

**Somehow the abusive Melissa made me wince now that Melissa's a guy. **

**FINALS ARE OVER SO I CAN SPEND THREE WEEKS WRITING INSTEAD OF BEING AROUND MY FAMILY! Just kidding. I'm gonna be around my family a lot, so I'm not sure about updates. Just go with it, kay? I love you pandas.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow! Sorry! Another kind of weak chapter before anything good happens!**

**Thank you to The Awesome Prussia aka sweetyjg! She's trying to help out the story's publicity on another website! So if you're reading because of something she put out there, I'd like to wave a big hello to the future readers! Good to see you, panda! Have they made the flying car yet? Wait, don't tell me! I wanna be surprised!**

**And present readers are also incredibly awesome! I love you guys, seriously! I would love to take you to Vegas and drink our combined weight in Jager and day-after remorse!**

France struggled with the idea of waking. It seemed very much as if the invisible thousand pound boulder resting on his head wanted to keep him lying flat on his face on the villa floor and not, as the rest of his body wanted, in the bathroom.

But bladders often win out in the battle of wills against waking up with a hangover. France squeezed his eyes shut against the blinding morning light and dragged himself to his feet to shuffle to the bathroom.

He passed Spain in the kitchen, holding a chilled water bottle to his head.

"Morning," France whispered.

"Stop shouting," Spain moaned.

France made his way to the enormous villa bathroom with the gaudy golden tiles and set to his business, pantsless. But that was nothing new. Relief flooded his body and he sighed.

The sigh echoed around the huge bathroom and came back, sounding like a low growl. France blinked groggily and, without fully stopping the unending stream of hangover pee, turned around.

Sitting in the corner, right next to the bathtub, was a very large, very curious looking tiger.

France blinked at this and turned back around to face the toilet. He stopped himself.

He looked back. A tiger.

To the toilet. No tiger.

Back again. Tiger.

What was this wizardry?

The tiger gave a very large, very sharp toothed yawn and France went into panic mode.

"Antonio!" he shouted. "Gilbert!"

France ran out of the bathroom into the kitchen, where Prussia had joined Spain in an effort to drink a full gallon of water in as little time as possible.

"Help!" France shouted. Prussia and Spain yelped in pain.

"Shut up shut up shut up _shut up_," Spain murmured. Prussia tried to Force-choke France.

"T-tiger!" France's shrill voice cut through the bleary morning thickness. "Tiger in the bathroom!"

"You will die," Spain growled menacingly.

Prussia tried to pat France on the shoulder, not realizing he was three feet from Prussia's hand. "Relax, stupid," he said. "You're still drunk. There's no such thing as tigers. Go put on some pants."

Spain looked questioningly at Prussia. "Are you sure? I think I remember seeing a tiger at a zoo."

"Zoo… I know that word…"

"Guys!" France shrieked. Prussia and Spain winced and covered their ears. "There is a _jungle cat_ in the bathroom!"

Spain stood up and patted France on the shoulder. "I'll go see," he smiled condescendingly. He trudged to the bathroom, yawning. Spain stuck his head in the bathroom and ran back, eyes as big as saucers.

"Holy shit," Spain said. "Gil, he's not joking!"

"What?"

"There is a _tiger_ in the _bathroom!_"

France tugged at his shirt. "I told you so! What do we do?"

Prussia took a last mighty gulp of his water. "First, you go put on some pants. I find it a little weird I have to ask twice. Second, how did a tiger end up in the bathroom?"

"I have no idea," Spain said. "I can't remember anything from last night!"

"Me either!" France said, pulling on a pair of boxers.

"I remember drinking on the roof," Prussia said. "But after that, it's all a blur. Toni, have you always had orange hair?"

Spain reached for the toaster's reflection and gasped. His dark brown hair was streaked with thick, chunky orange hi-lights. He started hyperventilating.

"No, no, no, no, no, this can't be happening," he gasped. "This is fake, there's no way I did that. No!"

"Calm down," France tried to say. "It is only hair. Be thankful you have all your teeth yes?"

Spain frantically pawed at his mouth and sighed in relief. "You don't understand," he said. "Roderich loves my hair."

"Oh, please," Prussia said. "Do you really think he'd leave you if you didn't have such great hair?"

"Actually, yes," Spain said.

"What makes you think that?" France asked.

"Oh, I don't know," Spain said angrily. "Probably when he told me 'I would probably leave you if you didn't have such great hair' two weeks ago."

"Toni, relax," Prussia said. "We can always dye your hair back to normal before we leave. Though THAT," Prussia said, pointing to Spain's left hand, "might be harder to undo."

Spain slowly looked in horror at the golden band wrapped around his finger. "What. The. HELL. Is that? WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!"

"One problem at a time," France said. "Tiger in the goddamned bathroom!"

"RING!" Spain shouted.

"Shut up!" Prussia snapped. "Francis, go find West. We need to figure out what happened last night."

France ran off into the villa and Prussia patted Spain on the shoulder. "You okay, buddy?"

"If this is a joke," Spain hissed poisonously, "not only is it horribly unfunny, I will murder you in your sleep tonight."

"I don't know, dude," Prussia said.

Spain's eyes widened suddenly and he clawed at his breast pocket for the little velvet box.

"_SHIT_!" he said as he tore it open. "The ring! My grandmother's ring! It's gone!"

"What? Are you sure?"

"Am I sure?" Spain laughed maniacally. "_Am I fucking sure_?"

Prussia held a suddenly sobbing Spain to his chest and France came back into the room.

"Ludwig's gone," France said.

"You looked everywhere?" Prussia asked.

"Everywhere but the bathroom," France said. "And let's face it. If he fell asleep next to the tiger, he's already dead."

"Enough about the tiger," Prussia said. "I can't deal with the tiger right now. West probably just went downstairs to grab some breakfast. I'll call him."

Prussia tapped the screen of his iPhone and held it to his ear. A phone buzzed on the counter and France picked it up.

"'Allo?" he said.

Prussia gave a pained smile. "Hey, buddy. It's Gil. How's it hanging?"

"I've had a hell of a morning, Gil, you just wouldn't bel-" France looked from the phone in his hand to Prussia. "This is Ludwig's phone," he said.

"Yes it is."

"Fantastic," Spain said. "He's probably mortified to be seen with us right now. I can't remember a thing, but if last night had anything to do with a tiger, my grandmother's ring, enough alcohol to kill a herd of elephants and whatever is on Francis' head, I'd be ashamed to be seen with us too."

France touched the dark object on his head and screamed, flinging it across the room. Spain yelped and dove to catch it.

"_OI_! What are you doing, _amigo_? Don't just go throwing everything you find on your head across the room!"

"What is it, Toni?" Prussia asked.

Spain looked down into reptilian eyes. "It's a… turtle?"

The turtle blinked.

France screeched. "EWWWW! When did our villa turn into a zoo?"

Spain's eyes widened. "_Chingado!_ They still have my credit card! Oh, I am so fucked!"

…

At the poolside with mimosas and enough greasy hangover food to make America sick, the Bad Touch Trio covered their sunglasses against the Nevada sun and groaned at each other.

"Why can't we remember what the fuck happened last night?" Prussia hissed.

Spain pointed to the large purple bruise on Prussia's forehead. "Because we obviously had a wonderful fucking time."

"Would you stop being so negative?" Prussia snapped. "It's making it really hard to think!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Spain said. "I guess the goddamn tiger kind of knocked me out of my happy place. Not to mention we still haven't seen Ludwig, I might have gotten _married_ and the last person on earth who should ever be put in charge of another life is now taking care of my turtle."

"Your turtle?" Prussia said as France sat the baby sea turtle so its tail stuck out between its back legs.

France snickered. "It has a tiny turtle erection," he said.

"Give me that," Spain snapped, taking the turtle from his friend.

"What's its name?" Prussia asked. "Does it have a collar or something?"

"Ben," France said happily.

Spain scowled. "That is a retarded name for a turtle. We're calling him Carlos."

"Now that that's settled," Prussia said, biting into a greasy burger, "any luck with West? I checked the gym and the casino, and they hadn't seen him since last night."

"The front desk was no help," France said.

Spain swallowed half a burrito. "I checked all his recent calls. No one that could help."

"I'm sure he's fine," France said. "He's a grown man. He can take care of himself."

"Except this is his bachelor party," Prussia said. "And it's kind of our job to make sure he's both okay and not knocking up hookers."

"Fair point."

"So what do we remember from last night?" Spain said.

"We started on the roof drinking Jager," Prussia said.

"And then we had dinner at that Hard Rock Café," Spain agreed.

"After that I think we played Roulette at the casino," France said. "I am almost certain Ludwig was there, yes?"

"That sounds right," Spain said.

"I don't even remember going to dinner," Prussia groaned.

Spain's head thudded on the poolside table. "I don't think I've ever been this hung over. And after dinner, I have nothing. I just blacked out."

"So that covers until about 10:00," France said.

"Which gives us…" Prussia looked at the clock on his phone, "… a 12 hour window where all this happened. And somewhere in there we lost my brother."

"Where do we even start?" Spain said, brushing back his messy orange-streaked hair.

They sat back and frowned at each other. Spain made a tiny pool of water in an empty burger box to set Carlos in.

Prussia finally sighed. "I have no fucking clue, you guys."


End file.
